Seeing is believing...

Dear Driver in Car Next to Me at Stoplight,

What you saw me doing was ripping off a piece of a band-aid box. I was in the process of folding it so that it would fit in my clergy shirt tab. You see, my son moved the one that is always in the car. We were too far from home for me to turn around when he mentioned, "Mom, I played with that collar thing you put in your shirt. I don't know where I laid it."

So, what you and the other drivers saw as you followed, giving me amble space, was me, frantically searching through bags and the remaining junk in the front seat. The piece that went flying to the back of the car was sun visor that had been removed from a window when I was loading the car. I was on my way to preach at a Professional Leaders' Conference and I placed all my nervous energy into finding that collar tab.

That's what I was doing when you looked over and I had my mirror down and was fiddling with my shirt. I didn't mean to give you such a funny look...at least you got a smile. In my mood, it could have gone either way.

Peace of the Lord be with you always.

Here's my sermon. I want to give thanks to Rev. Susan Briehl for a sermon she preached for Day One in 2000. Two sentences in this are really close to being hers.

Easter 2 John 20: 19-31

Doubt padlocked one door,

and Memory put her back to the other one.

Still, the damp draught seeped in though,

fear chinked all the cracks,

and blindness boarded up the window. In the darkness that was left, defeat crouched in his cold corner.

Then Jesus came (all the doors being shut) and stood among them. (Luci Shaw)

When a friend of mine heard that I was preaching here today, she paused and then, said, “that’s kinda odd, isn’t it? I mean to preach to a bunch of pastors and church leaders.” I laughed and said, “Well, we are people, too.”

You and I don’t know each other overly well, but I’m going to make a huge assumption that you, know something about locked rooms. I’m going to guess that not only do you spend time with people who are locked up in fear, you, yourself…being a person and all…know something about hiding and fear.

So, let’s go with the disciples today….It was in a room hid away, a bit off the main street. From their spot the smell of baking bread and rotting fruit in the streets reached them, but no light came in to the room. Throughout the day their ears caught enough phrases and conversations from the outside to know what was going on beyond the door—but they weren’t sure what it meant for them. Their bodies constricted tighter as the sounds of soldiers passed by or familiar voices of the religious leaders came too close. And now as night closes in, they are alone, together--their minds going over and over the events of the previous days. The last moments before the world changed, betrayal, horrific scenes run over and over in their mind and the most haunting thought is that they are not the type of person they had hoped to be

Perhaps for some of them, Mary’s proclamation combined with Jesus’ teachings were beginning to make sense…all the odd things he’d said, the promises he’d made…light was beginning to shine.

But they remained still. It was not bright enough yet to see the path out of their fear.

We, like the first disciples, often lock ourselves in, and the world out, when we are threatened or wounded or grieving. It isn't hard for us to imagine ourselves in a room.

If we are honest, often our first reaction to this world is to run and hide. We hear the Acts text today and know…want…our ministry and our Christian life to have that power and purpose and awe inspiring message…but we don’t always embrace the Holy Spirit with her way of sweeping us all up and sending us out in directions we’d never thought of. Her way of turning everything around. It is easier to keep things as they are. So often we close the door and flip the deadbolt.

We can’t be too critical of the disciples…we’ve been there, too.

When you see that person—that parishioner coming down the hallway…you know the one: with an agenda, a gripe, a criticism, a whine, hateful words…a part of us wants to hide in fear.

When you hear a life story so painful, so raw, so all consuming, so lifeless…a part of us wants to hide in fear.

When you are faced with disbelief, hostility or mocking of our faith…a part of us wants to hide in fear.

And I imagine, you being people and all…you have a life larger than just your parishioners…

friends, spouses, children, neighbors, parents…all of them put us in situations where part of us wants to hide in fear.

Fear that we won’t be enough. Fear that we don’t have the words. Fear that we will fail. Fear that our life won’t actually change lives. Fear that the pain will be too great or the conflict too much. Fear that we don’t have enough energy to keep on.

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁰After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. ²¹Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

Who told you to be afraid? Who told you that you weren’t enough? Who told you there was a sin too great? Who told you that you were on your own?

We can lock ourselves up and we can curl up and try to hide…but you know Jesus will break in. We can padlock it up anyway we want. Use any kind of chinking or glue…Jesus will come to us.

He could have come with judgment or shamed them. He could have given them a lecture or sulked in the corner.

But he comes with open arms and offers peace. Jesus summons his children to release their brothers and sisters...forgive sins, proclaim life’s conquer over death, and gives them his breath….equipping them to live the life they were created for.

For some of us, God will break in with a relationship and like Mary, we will see Jesus when he says our name. For others of us, it will be because of service done in his name…we will see his hands at work. Perhaps he will find us in bread or wine. For still others, it will take a whole community that has been changed and freed from their fear filled life, and for others like our friend Thomas, it will take all of it…

We can lock ourselves up however we want…we can use pride or arrogance, or intellect or martyrdom, we can rebel and mouth off all we want…Jesus will come, bringing peace. And with declaration, his peace becomes more and more our breath. He becomes our second wind.

He comes into our lives bearing the scars and wounds of the world so that we don’t have to. While the body of Christ, although risen, is always wounded as well--He is our promise that because he lives, we too shall live.

He comes into our lives to draw us closer, in spite of our doubt and disbelief. He holds us, and longs for us to come closer still…to more fully know his peace. In him we are reminded God has not left us to free ourselves…we are not alone in darkeness.

Jesus comes as Jesus always comes, with a word of forgiveness…The disciples could not stay in that room safe and familiar though it was. They would suffocate there if they stayed and Jesus knew that, and opened the doors. Jesus sent them out into the very world they feared, into the fresh air of the future they could not see, saying: "As the Father has sent me, so I send you."

In a world so gifted at locking itself up in fear, you and I are called to point out the light, shining under that door and through that crack in the window—light has broken in to darkness. What can we say? What can we do with such a gift but exclaim—My Lord and my God, I believe.

Maundy Thursday

John 13: 1-17, 31b-35

Dear Friends in Christ, Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

As the oldest of three kids, I am the keeper of many things…rules, traditions, ‘the way things ought to be done,’ but what I’m not is the keeper of memories. Time and time again in recent get togethers my parents or siblings will talk about an event and I will stare back at them blankly…not a clue what they are talking about. It appears that from about age 15-19 my body was there but I was mentally off somewhere else. Of course some of this goes both ways…memories are like that. We all tune into a different piece of the event or conversation. I imagine you do too. Some memories just fade away. Some go away for our own protection. Some we cling to so as to not to let go of a loved one, or a moment that we can never recapture. We know how hard it is to watch someone lose their memory, how impatient we can grow hearing the same memories told over and over again. And how important it is for those memories to be shared.

We as God’s children, never tire of hearing God’s stories…each year they come around again and again…so rich, so vivid, so meaningful we catch something new each time. Every week we gather and hear the words, “Do this in remembrance of me…” Jesus’ command to his disciples at the last supper…Eat this bread, drink this wine to remember me. But there is more depth to this phrase than just visually recalling the last supper, or to reenact the event….there is more to it than an artists’ version of that meal.

To re-member literally means to take what has broken apart—fragmented, scattered--and put it back together….While it is only Thursday, we know the story. Friday is coming. Jesus’ brutal and horrific death. We can see Christ being broken apart. We can see his open wounds, his crushed feet and hands…

“Do this in remembrance of me.” In the meal of holy communion, we do not simply recall or reflect on Christ. God literally re-members the broken body of Christ. As God’s baptized children, our lives are meant to put back together Christ in this world. We are the vessels God uses; it is our hands, our words, our feet, our hearts that become Christ’s here.

Before we can go into the world to do this, we gather for nourishment. Around this table we kneel and stand. We open our hands to receive what looks like a small wafer and a sip of wine…but what is actually the banquet feast of new life. It is enough to keep us going.

You and I, scattered, fragments, broken people, are put back together.

As individuals, sins forgiven. Weaknesses are strengthened. Pain is shared and healed. Hunger is eased. The empty places in us are filled in a bit more.

And as each of our lives are healed, Christ’s own life appears as we the community kneel elbow to elbow. Our relationships as spouses and friends-strengthened as we kneel side by side equal in our vulnerability of the outstretched hand. Child and parent finding common ground as their elbows bump each others.

One of the privileges for me of being a pastor is in serving communion. Because each time I see the power of God alive and at work in your lives. As pastors we are privileged to know people…and often times we really know them. We have seen people when the masks are off. We know the stories others will never hear. We have seen the sin and we have seen the saint—often in the same person…often in the same council meeting.

So as I place bread into hand after hand, I see God remembering Christ through our lives. Bringing all to the table. Of course it happens as we sit in the pew as well as we watch our brothers and sisters come to the railing. Church is where “those” people—the ones we would rather put in a box and label as being “what’s wrong with society” have a face and a place next to us. Rich. Poor. Educated. Uneducated. Rude. Polite. Museum Lover. Sports Fan. Democrat. Republican. Male. Female. Young. Old. Married. Single. Whatever we are and whatever we aren’t…we kneel side by side. Our hands stretch out the same. Here we remember Christ. We become Christ alive and at work in the world.

this man who: ate with sinners, loved the out cast, washed the dirty, forgave his enemies, spoke well of those who hated him, fed the hungry, healed the sick, clothed the naked, stood up for those who the world put down…who on his last night with his greatest friends washed their feet.

Most of us here know this part of the story…If someone arrived all hot and dusty at your house, if you were a good host you would give your visitor a basin of water to wash their feet or you would have your servant do it…but you would never. But Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. It is not the first time he does something that seems to be beneath his dignity.

This strange story takes place at Passover and he has a place of honor. He is the Master, Lord, and Teacher. He is the most important person in the room. He is the one that others should wait upon, hand and foot.

And as the scene unfolds, John the Gospel writer gives us a good long look—he shows the action in slow motion. John replays the moment when Jesus gets up from the table. The moment when he lays down his outer robe, and ties a towel around himself. The moment when Jesus pours water in a basin and begins to wash the disciples’ feet. He wipes their feet with the towel that is tied around his waist. And he keeps on washing. Peter’s objections do not stop him. He knows his betrayer is there at the table, but Judas does not stop him. Jesus continues this grunge work until he has washed every foot. Then he puts on his outer robe and returns to the table. And he says, “do you know what I have done to you?”

He has given us an example, that turns life inside out—from living for ourselves, to living for others. And there’s more. He has given us a new commandment. Jesus says: “A new commandment I give you, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, that you love one another.” (13:34, 35) Servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sends them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.” (13:16,17) When Jesus says, “love one another,” this is not a mere suggestion. Not just an option. It is a commandment. A mandate. It is marching orders. Washing orders. Love one another, as I have loved you.

The day before he dies, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. We hear his question: “do you know what I have done to you?” We see his example, and we hear his commandment. But like some traveler on the dusty road, we are not there yet. We forget. We place a hedge around our life, the lives of those dear to us, protecting us from the world. We bob and weave…making excuses for our lack of service. Our lack of foot washing. We forget the defining piece of who we are…that we are to love the world. That our main task is to bring new life out of dead places. That we are servants. We forget.

We forget because it is a tall order. We inevitably fall short of the goal…in fact we’d never be able to even try if God hadn’t used this same man, this same life to put us back together. Before we could become Christ’s body…..we must be put back together ourselves. And so while we were still sinners, Christ died for us….healing us, claiming us, forgiving us. So God in one minute is healing us and in the next asking us to heal others…in one breathe God is forgiving us, so that we can forgive others… it is a never ending promise that is nourished and nurtured right here…today/night, in this meal.

Today/night be aware of how we gather, how we came, who is among us…With each sip of wine, with each swallow of bread…Christ enters our lives. Give thanks for the ways God works…weaving people into our life…helping us remember whose we are. You and I reach out our hands, we come, because in this meal, we have seen and felt the re-membering of Christ. In this meal we see the body of the risen Christ—love poured out for all.

“Do this for the remembrance of me.” It is God’s command, it is God’s promise, it is God’s prayer for you, for me, for the world. While our memory may be selective, our memory may change and fade…we’ll change up the story and edit to our liking—trust that God remembers his promises. In this meal God promises to make us whole and for at least one brief moment around this railing…we are.

Palm Sunday

Spring!

This year we have a mourning dove in the nest outside our kitchen window. She is a very dedicated mother. Some of you remember last year and the robin family that became fodder for a few entries...I hope they are well. (there were three 'robin family 'entries in all...I don't foresee too many bird stories this year. The mourning dove just sits there--very little to inspire. yet.)

BB and I have been talking about greeting people when they speak to him. I have encouraged him to say "Hello." when someone greets him. We practice. It does not go well, so we work on it some more. Apparently, our conversations were on his mind as he went out to play in our yard.

After a few minutes of running around, he stopped and I noticed he was looking at the birch tree. He talks the entire time is out there...to himself, mind you...so I thought nothing of it. Eventually he came over to the kitchen door.

In one big breath..."Mom, that robin was watching me play. She...or is it a Mr.? Anyway, she was looking at me with her eyes. She was talking to me, too. With her nose thingy (makes pecking motion with his head) but I didn't know what she was saying to me...I couldn't understand she. So, I didn't say "Hello." Is that ok, Mom? If I not say "Hello" to robins?

I could barely contain the laughter. He was so serious. So. Serious.

Fargo

We watched these videos last night, sent from a former parishioner. Our prayers and thoughts have been with the people of our former home for days now. My grandmother is in Grand Forks, an hour or so north...once they thaw, the waters will head that direction. Parishioners, family friends, and other family all live here. Over the course of my life Fargo was my home for about six years.

As we watched we were in awe. The engineer next to me expressed amazement over the feat they were accomplishing. "It is pretty amazing." he exclaimed at one point. He was referring to the engineering, the sheer physical labor, the organization...and the attitudes. We expressed what we already knew....these are amazing people. Strong work ethic. Positive hope in the face of anything. Stoic determination..."this is just what we need to do." Our admiration would be too much for them...bordering on arrogance and being prideful. And we wouldn't want to brag...but man, flood waters and all, we were a little homesick last night.

I want to go...

http://www.christianity21.com/

Anyone coming with me?

Two of the speakers are the author's of blogs I follow...never met either one of them. Well, I kinda met Nadia in WA but she doesn't know it. I also enjoy Diana Butler Bass' books.

Seriously. Let's go!

Leave it to Sweden

How fun are these?

http://www.mariasjodin.com/en/priest.asp

One

For nearly an hour and a half this morning I had to bite my tongue and sit on my hands to keep from jumping up and shouting this verse or others like it....

"There is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." Galatians 3:28

Sexism was alive and well today as I listened to a talk. It was, I believe, meant to be a talk aimed at helping us create a hedge around our marriages. To be mindful of the subtle ways we can erode the spiritual, intellectual, emotional (and physical) intimacy with our spouse. This is all fine. It is a good reminder in the face of life, and all the chaos that pulls us away from the very one we committed to creating this life with in the first place.

But what it turned into was a lesson on how to please a man lest he be driven towards pornography or "those pretty women at the office." After opening with statistics on pornography and then sharing the revelation that men are "visual," the rest of the talk was geared at the ways in which we, the wives, are responsible for ministering to our husbands needs, lest they fall victim to scantily clad women or those pesky pop-ups on our computers. We were left pretty much with a 1950's "hand him his pipe at the door" view of our role...with the 2009 update...a recipe for chocolate sauce to spice things up.

Chocolate sauce aside, my mind is overloaded with what I heard today. Curious if the instruction to, enjoy sex and honor the fact God created it, is a reflection of the messages these young women get from their particular church or a hang over from the generation of the women speaking. (an odd comment in this particular group where three children is the average and most are willing to have more...from what I can tell, we've got sex down.) Pained for those women who view their created role as one of submission and obedience. Mindful of the many women who pay the price each day for saying 'no' to men. Concerned by the chasm in theology amongst my fellow sisters in Christ.

And so the gospel keeps coming to me...that radical message that I believe killed Christ...one that continued to crucify him to this very day. Freedom. Oneness. Grace.

And bubbling out of me is the need to proclaim this: that I was created by God to be servant to all and slave to no one. I was baptized into a body that counts my unique contrbution no more, and no less imporant than those of my neighbor. In marriage, we are meant to model God's love...honoring the gifts both people bring, honestly naming the sins both parties carry, respecting the desires and needs of each...

After all, my husband and I both took these vows...

I promise before God and these witnesses to be your faithful spouse, to share with you in plenty and in want, in joy and in sorow, in sickness and in health, to forgive and strengthen you, and to join with you so that together we may serve God and others as long as we both shall live.

Now on to the sermon for Sunday...good to get that out.

Two Kids, Two Moms

Last Wednesday, I celebrated the second most amazing thing I have accomplished thus far. The second and first, 'most amazing' accomplishments are similar. I managed to keep EG alive, with some help, for 12 whole months. She made it. I made it. We all made it.

She is alive and thriving, with smiles and giggles to share. She is joy incarnate and I love her more than she will ever know. One specific, 'amazing things for me' about EG's 12 month life is that I breastfed her the entire time. I made it 7 months with BB and that is a generous accounting. In reflecting upon this difference in my time with them, I realized they really had different mothers.

BB's mom was overwhelmed and suffocated by the enormous amount of attention he needed in those first months. She felt like she was in post traumatic shock syndrome for the first few months. She felt like the new kid in school among other mom's. She was sure she wasn't accomplishing anything with her time and talents. She felt like she was faking it most days...waiting for it to feel real. She was in a hurry to get back to normal...her schedule, her emotions, her body, her mind...she wanted it back and was often frantic in her search for it.

EG's mom knows more. She is no longer adjusting to her identity as 'mom,' she just is one. For better or worse, most days better, it is part of who she is now. If this mom has learned nothing else it is that 'normal' will never return. It was really an illusion to begin with. No, this mom knows that what she had...with herself, her body, her mind, her husband, her friends, her job...will never be again. And most days she is ok to wait to see what will be.

I like EG's mom better. This isn't her first crack at keeping a baby alive for 12 months so she relaxes a bit more. She's more tired, and so she looks upon the times she has to sit with EG not as, interruptions in her hunt for "what was" but as chances to pause to see "what is."

It is time for EG to take up cow's milk...for us to part ways a bit. But I won't let her get too far away just yet...and I'll keep her brother close too, together they are introducing me to myself in ways no one else can.

Polka Dot Birthday Party

Decorating for Lent

This is the easiest of my decorating seasons. Everything that was up for Valentine's day or winter goes away.

Nothing new comes out.

BB was not impressed. "Mom, what is this season?" Muttering to himself as he walked up the stairs with me..."This isn't fun. Nothing to it...must be somp-thing in a box...on a shelf."

In a photo a few entries earlier you'll note a crucifix on a table. This is the only 'Lent' thing we brought up from the "decorating room." BB touches it and say, "Hi, Lenty Jesus."

Obviously, I haven't quite found my words to describe this season. BB talks about people dying enough already that I'm not sure what Jesus' death and then resurrection will do, beside make for some very complex conversations.

Any chance I can just leave it as a decorating theme of austerity?

The State of My Life...in words.

It has been a while. Missed you. Here's the update...

new part-part time job to create small group at church.
evening meetings mean doing more parenting hand offs in the entry way.
time is a bit more precious and multitasking skills are being honed.
EG is nearly a year old. What a miraculous and horrible year...all in one. She is the funniest little bug.
BB is articulating lots of thoughts. Some are HIL-arious (as he says), some are annoying, some get him in time outs. He spends much of his day in a imaginary world all his own.
dust bunnies breeding with abandon.
kitchen manages to get cleaned up each night.
do not enter bathrooms.
potty training may go on until college.
caught the flu...lost a week of my life.
time to run to the post office...behind on mailing b-day gifts.
in constant search of Christian compassion and patience for those who see the world differently than I do.
husband's job, our housing and location remain in limbo.
dog is too much work for me.
have cut out fast food for Lent.
hope to join a gym.
clothes are clean as I leave the house.

The State of My Life....in photos.

I came across this sculpture in the kitchen today,
it is the inspiration for this entry.

Bowlin', Bowlin', Bowlin'

I am sore from bowling last night.



That is all I have to say about that. Sore. SORE!

Time, in Months

It is hard to see the passing of time in those around you. It is only when you are gone for a while that your eyes adjust to what time and nature has done. Growth. Deterioration.

I took note of this during communion on Sunday. I tell time with this congregation on a month to month basis and it is always striking to me what has gone on...

Hands that have aged.
Rings that have been removed.
Babies that are seemingly 12 times bigger than a month ago.
Children who utter complete sentences.
The elderly man, missing from his wife's side at the railing.
Teenagers who have grown even taller.
The woman with Alzheimers who isn't sitting beside her husband at worship today.
Faces that look more drawn.
Hair that is growing in.

It made me look more closely at my own family. Taking in each day...because in a month so much can change.

Update

I have never watched so much tv at one sitting.

The cookies worked. BB pretty much made them himself with me half paying attention. I think too much flour went in...they never really browned and are dry as sand. BB, who would have been able to eat as many as he wanted as I had my eyes glued to NBC, only ate two.

The funniest moment came when BB was convinced he met the Mondale's while in MN. I imagine he heard the announcer talking about MN as the former VP walked in and decided to enter his mother's fantasy world. He was so fragile throughout the day that I just wasn't going to argue with him. "You know them?" "Yes, I sh-ink I met them in MN. I sh-ink when I was two...or maybe I was one. The year I had a baseball cake."

After a day of a three year old left to his own devices, our home looks very much like I imagine The Mall does tonight. Perhaps, I should check back in with my children before I dress for the balls this evening. :)

44

How do you explain to a three year old that today is a really important, exciting day? "Please be quiet while Mommy watches tv. No, this isn't any normal program. This is a big deal."

Screams abound. They only get louder as we try to quiet him.

My parenting guilt sets in.

An internal conversation begins:
Punish him for screaming because I need to be focused on the tv? Send him to his room because he isn't listening? Ignore him?

Throws himself on the floor. Screaming and screaming. Now he wants to watch his firefighter show.

EG has gone to bed. Practically took herself there in an attempt to escape her insane family.

With dramatic flair I stomp off saying, "I'll just go to Mom's group, after all." (Where oh where does BB gets his drama?)

At this point Dad gets involved. Calmly trying to explain the big day to BB. No success. But as BB heads away, Dad looks at me and whispers emphatically," Just send him to his room. You want to watch this...it's a big day. He'll get over it."

Then an idea hits me. Cookies.

BB is still screaming and whining as he moves from room to room trying to get us to follow his lead.

"BB, let's make cookies while we watch the Inauguration."

It is amazing how quickly that passion and noise can stop. Silence and smiles. A little jump and a clap. We head to the kitchen to watch history.

Conversations

"You lazy, EG!" shouts BB as I dress her on our bed.
"She's not lazy."
"Yes, she is."
"What does lazy mean?"
Pause. "You tell I."
"If you don't know what a word means you shouldn't use it. Lazy means someone isn't working hard enough or is sitting around." (Which at this point I realize she is just sitting around...)
"I want to call her lazy." Time to ignore him.
"Let's call her happy. Or smiley. Or silly. (or even stinky, I want to add.) Or squirmy..."
"I want to call her lazy!" he says with an emphatic gesture and a dramatic throwing of himself on to the floor.
He instantaneously jumps up and stands beside me as I dress her.
"Or, I will call her Jesus. Life of God, Jesus."
"Sure, this whole train of thought makes perfect sense", I think, as I chuckle to myself.

He moves in closer to her toes and begins to tickle her and gently pat her legs...in a very sweet, sincere voice he says, "Hi, little lazy baby Jesus."

Epiphany...a day ahead.

Hello! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Tomorrow, January 6th is Epiphany on the Christian church calendar but I had to share my 2009 epiphany early.

The fog has lifted. The birds are singing. The air is fresh. The sky is blue. Life is wonderful and so, so good.

What you may ask has come over me? A nice dose of thyroid medicine. Holy, amazing, batman...I won't go into any of the details except to say after each of my pregnancies nodes in my thyroid has grown. And that over the course of the last six months I have felt as if aliens overtook by body and very being. Check out this website for the symptoms. (and a bit of PSA: even if your blood work is "normal" if you feel these, push your doctor to get you some help.) But for me the most telling sign was just how dull I felt. I was in conversations but not there. Every moment of life was a chore...a painful, exhausting chore that I began to loathe every moment of. Truly. A normal day was overwhelming work.

Just two weeks into treatment and I am amazed/stunned at how much better I feel. Now, granted, the mundane parts of my day to day life are still there but cleaning the kitchen, laundry, and the like don't overwhelm or exhaust me. The grief and myriad of other feelings remain, but they too don't overwhelm or completely dismantle me any more.

Yesterday, I was dancing around the room and hopping up and down with BB. It was apparent in his face that this was new (and very fun) behavior from me. His excited and precious face reinforced for me how important it is to take care of myself--so I can be the best version of myself.

A cloud has lifted, joy returns. Yay!

As I say good bye** to 2008 and the gut wrenching, faith testing, awe filled, sad, miraculous year that it was, I am thankful for Epiphany. It is good to arrive, if only for a moment, at the cradle of Christ and offer whatever gifts I have. It is good to clearly see the star leading us.

(**or as members of my family said, "Kick its butt out the door.")

A note about the photo above. You will notice that the kings are on their way to the stable but aren't "suppose" to be there yet. BB and I were at silent odds over how close they should be. Every time I passed by the kings over the weekend they were a bit closer than I had intended...so I would move them backwards. Only to find them close again when I passed by. Those poor guys are going backwards as often as they moved forward...hum, sounds about right.

Advent Favorite

First Coming
Madeleine L'Engle

God did not wait till the world was ready,
till...the nations were at peace.
God came when the heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.

God did not wait for the perfect time.
God came when the need was deep and great.
God dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. God did not wait

till hearts were pure. In joy God came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours of anguished shame
God came, and God's light would not go out.

God came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait til the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,

God came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!


The Emmaus Road has some other really nice poems for Advent up as well. :)

The art is from Creative Thursday...a blog that I really enjoy.

Wowzers...Santa Brings it out in People

I don't have a whole lot to share right now. I will report that the projects are getting clicked off the list in a timely manner.

If you are interested in conversations around Santa and how/if to communicate him to your kids, head over to The Paris Project or Peacebang. Both can be found as links on the left.

At three, Santa isn't a huge force in our family. BB doesn't want to meet him and isn't completely sure about him. I think in coming years we will focus a bit more heavily on St. Nicholas and the man behind 'The Man', so to speak....oh, and Jesus. We'll focus on him as well.

I will share that the one time I shared my family's (me and husband) take on this with friends, I was met with surprising passion on the topic of how it "should" be done. To me it has always been just a cute part of the larger season.

And because, once I get going, I can't stop, I will add: as I listen to people talk about Santa, I am struck by how often it is a threat..."You better....because Santa is watching." "Santa only brings toys to good girls and boys." BLECH. It does strike me as being completely opposite to "God born as one of us to free us from sin, and to know our pain."


In other news, I just stumbled across this blog, Design Sponge...what fun projects! I like the scarves.

Scenes from the Nativity

On this Second Sunday in Advent I wanted to share some of our nativities. Only one of them has a real story...but after taking them out each year, they each have a place in my heart.


This one, while a bit ubiquitous these days, is perhaps, my favorite. My parents gave it to us for our first Christmas. I like the simplicity of it.


This one came from my trip to Palestine.


This one was a wedding gift from my husband's Aunt and Uncle. It, too, is from Palestine.


This one belongs to the kids. It is out all year long. The animals take turns in the barn as well as the manger.


This one is from my Grandma. For thirty-three Christmases she gave me a silver bell like the one in the first photo. We have a gorgeous tree! When it came time to stop that tradition, she began to give me pieces for this Nativity. We have three kings as well, but they won't appear until January 6...Epiphany.

Then, there is this one. It makes me smile and brings tears to my eyes each year. It was made for me by a confirmation student. It was a total surprise...both that he gave me a Christmas gift and that the gift was a handmade Nativity. He was a slightly heavy, smart, sensitive junior high boy who grew up with parents who did not have the gifts to be supportive of his intelligence, interests or sensitivity. His family struggled with finances. They struggled with their faith as well.

So did their son.

It was a class made up of four boys. They were in 7th grade, none of them wanted to be at church after school each Wednesday but three of them grew up and participated in, the life of the small, rural congregation, so it home to them.

We'll call him Joel. Joel's parents, while themselves either against, or apathetic towards the church, forced him to attend Confirmation. And, so with these confusing messages, Joel rebelled a bit in class. He claimed not to believe in much, he once told me he was just there "studying the Christians."

So, much to my surprise this Nativity showed up one Christmas. I don't know why he made it. But I can't help but imagine that God was involved. What even gave him the idea? What went on in him as he designed, cut out, wood burned and then carefully penciled in the names of each person? I can only pray, trust and believe Joel grew in faith.

Oh, friends, he was so proud as he gave it to me. If you have ever been present as the veneer and bravado on a junior high boy comes down, you know the look on his face. His giggy joy and pride was hard for him to hide. I remember trying to share in his joy without embarassing him by crying or getting too emotional...not an easy feat. We lost contact after he was Confirmed. He is among one of many kids from that Call that I pray for...hoping that temptations didn't get the best of them and that God's grace grants them strength to grow into the full person God created them to be.

This Nativity...this one, this one is the only one that truly allows me a glimpse of the incarnation. God with us. God for us. God as us.

Advent Blessings.

Little Elves Came to Help

From the chapter of my life titled, You Can No Longer Do It All, comes this little story about my Christmas cards.

I've made our cards each year. I usually had a goal of getting them to people around the first Sunday in Advent. We have a Christmas card list just over one hundred people. I have high expectations for myself.

All of the above information becomes a stumbling block when you add an infant and a newly minted three year old and my current energy level.

So, going into this year, I tried to come up with easy cards with limited steps involved. But with limited hours for my Card Muse to work, I ended up with 5 step-cards that I wasn't totally in love with/inspired by. So, I put them off. And, off. And, off.

On the first Sunday of Advent my parents and Grandmother were here to celebrate our son's birthday. They became my Christmas Elves.

In matter of hours we folded cards, stamped a blue background, cut out green squares, stamped trees, stamped greetings, punched stars and glued them on.

It would never have happened without them. The best part is, their gift didn't just get the cards done, it jump started my Advent energy level. For me sometimes, when there is so much to do, it becomes easier to do nothing...but once the cards were completed and lined up so carefully by my Grandma on our dining room table, a weight lifted and the rest of the holiday list just started to fly.

Thanks, Elves! Love you so much.

Birthday Cake #3